Gloom in Italy
by MannequinLeLovely
Summary: Ludwig is a finicky gloomy painter, wanting nothing more than to paint his deal image of beauty. But how will things change when his brother decides they need a trip to Italy? AU, time is 1970 perhaps?


"It's no good…"

"What are you saying? It looks splendid _Herr Ludwig_!" A feminine voice came from next to him.

"No! It's no good!" Ludwig stood abruptly, slamming his large hand on a recent painting he had done. He flung it towards the woman who only squeaked, moving just as the canvas was about to hit her. "Now you listen to me-" He had started making his way towards her apprehensive form until a lean figure stepped between them.

"Don't take your nonsensical rage out on the maid, imprudent _kleinen Bruder_." Ludwig's anger melted off his face at the sight of his older brother's stern face. He cleared his throat and sighed, bringing a thick fingered hand to rub the bridge of his nose.

"Ah…just…leave me. You and that foolish woman." He waved his hand in the air dismissively at the two. He walked back to his large ever-green leathered chair to sift through papers mindlessly. Gilbert rolled his eyes and nodded the maid out, closing the door behind her. He gazed at his brother, instantly noticing the dark bags under his eyes and severe depression deep in his blue orbs.

"Your art is good." He stated simply. Ludwig stood instantaneously and pointed a thick finger at his brother as he opened his mouth to yell. Realizing that arguing with his older brother though about such a touchy subject to himself was pointless, he sat back down and growled like a caged wild animal. He combed his slick hair with his hand, making it fall out of place. Gilbert smiled sadly.

"You are so lost and gloomy nowadays Bruder. What is wrong?" He sauntered over to Ludwig's desk and sat on top of the many papers he had been 'studying'. Ludwig only closed his eyes tightly to shut out the world around him aswell as the words his brother spoke. But he could not help but answer the question. Gilbert was his older brother after all. He should respect his elders. He mentally nodded as if confirming it to himself.

"I…It is not the art Bruder. It is the object of which I am trying to paint. Trying to express. It is not perfect…nothing is. Nothing fits. Nothing is worth painting…there is nothing beautiful to paint…" Ludwig's words grew quieter and more desperate as he spoke on. He settled for burying his head in the albino's lap. Gilbert's brows furrowed for a moment as to re-think his brothers words before he softly pet the blonde's head.

"These…objects? You mean people right Bruder? People, not objects." He chuckled darkly. To this blonde man they were nothing more than things to use and throw away. Not people. Not people with feelings.

"Ja ja whatever they are. Nothing is beautiful enough to paint…so it will never be perfect…"

"What about me Bruder?" Gilbert tugged on the blonde messy locks lightly. Ludwig's head shot up to look at his brother with an expression mixed of speechlessness, confusion, and panic ever so slightly. Gilbert only chuckled.

"Stupid Ludwig, I was joshing you." The blonde German then smiled the tiniest smile. The first one Gilbert had seen in days. The albino also smiled and ruffled his younger brother'r hair like a dog, kissing his head and getting up to walk towards the door.

"I have decided you need to relax Bruder. We are going to _Italia_! By the way, you have no say in this so pack your things." And with that swiftly spoken, Gilbert opened the door and slammed it shut as he left. Ludwig sat agape at his desk for a moment before his brother peeked in again.

"And you cannot, I mean absolutely _not_ bring your brushes, paints, canvas, or anything relating to art for that matter. This is to escape from that desolate hole you have dug for yourself." Gilbert sent him a hostile glare, then smirked before leaving for real. It only took Ludwig a few seconds to let the new and dreadful information sink in.

"_**WAS!**_"

--

This is just like…a 'prologue'? I felt like writing this story on the spur of the moment after watching _Death In Venice. Which this is lightly based off of._


End file.
